She left books open all over the house.
And she had an obsession with music.
Especially the piano.
For her eleventh birthday, Rick, my husband, gave her a pair of earrings he’d designed himself.
They weren’t expensive.
They weren’t made by some famous jeweler.
But they were unique.
Small silver stars with a tiny blue stone in the center.
Rick had drawn the design on a piece of paper first, then had a local jeweler make them.
Hannah was thrilled.
She ran into my arms, squeezing me so tightly that I nearly dropped the birthday cake.
Then she turned to Rick.
“Dad, you made these?”
He smiled.
“I designed them.”
She immediately put them on.
Then she looked at herself in the mirror.
“I’ll never take them off, Mom.”
